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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671300">Lovers' Spat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drowsybadger/pseuds/Drowsybadger'>Drowsybadger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obitine Throughout History [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And the Kryzes are called Compatisse - expanation inside, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Established Relationship Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, F/M, Historical AU - French Revolution, Korkie Kryze is a Kenobi, Korkie is now Clement because reasons, No Beta We Die Like Clones, OC POV, Obi-Wan is now called Olivier Vincent (Oli-Vin), Obi-Wan worked his way up in the military, Oh yeah and Bo-Katan is now called Bea(trice), Satine is a noble who joined/aided the revolutionaries' cause, Satine stays Satine, and he still is/was a general, and married, but he was also son of Satine's guard captain (Qui-Gon), if anyone is OOC I shall remind that this is an AU, overuse of "mon amour" and "mon cher", so they're both childhood friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:15:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drowsybadger/pseuds/Drowsybadger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Duchess Satine Compatisse is a force to be feared. No one knows better than her husband. <br/>So when she storms into his office after leaving to aid the revolution, tensions are high, and a young servant can all but tremble as he watches their quarrel through the window.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obitine Throughout History [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lovers' Spat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So... this entire series was started off, as per usual, on the Obitine Discord. The Mandalorian Hippie (@asterartistedmonton on Instagram), a fantastic artist (who’s style, I feel, would feel very much at home on Mandalore), and I were enthusing about historical fashion and then she/he had the brilliant idea of an “art trade” – she would paint an Obitine scene in a historical setting, and in turn, I would write a one-shot. The art piece will be placed at the very bottom of the one-shot, and also used as the cover on FFN.</p><p>We discussed this whole scenario at length, and she suggested that since Satine is a revolutionary in her own way, she would be fighting on the side of the people – not to forget that Satine would do that simply because she’s puts their needs before her own.</p><p>Thanks a lot to @GraceEliz and her friends for figuring out what the English translation of Kryze is:</p><p>Kryze... Possibly derived for "kar" and "yc", lit "hearty" or "hearted"  -&gt; Compassionate<br/>Phoenetics shenanigans: Kar-ee -&gt; Kreesh -&gt; Kreeze</p><p>From this, I translated compassionate into French (=”compatissant”) and played around with the ending little to get Compatisse (beware that I speak 0 French so if this some form of some verb or adjective or such, that was not my intention). I decided that Obi-Wan has Satine’s surname because reasons. <br/>Please take any historical inaccuracies with a grain of salt.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From his spot in the bushes outside General Compatisse’s office, Immanuel watched as the Revolutionaries stormed the palais, led by none other than the General’s wife, Duchess Satine.</p><p>Immanuel watched through the windows as the doors to the grand office swung open with a loud bang and the Duchess stormed in. She wore the simple clothes of the peasants, and her hair was loose. Yet, in her typical way, not a strand was out of place.</p><p>It was sheer terror that Immanuel felt when the Duchess brandished a gun and marched up to her husband’s desk, a cold fire in her eyes.</p><p>“In the name of the people, I demand you surrender what power and wealth you still hold peacefully, <em>Olivier</em>!”</p><p>The gun was pointed directly at the general’s face as he sat passively at his desk. He did not lower his chin, meeting his wife’s gaze evenly. He was not a man easily provoked.</p><p>“Satine, <em>mon amour</em>, surely you know that I cannot do this. If I were to give everything we have – everything I worked for – up, it would be <em>catastrophic</em> for Clement!”</p><p>The duchess<em> hmph’d </em>and crossed her arms.</p><p>“Clement is in England with Beatrice. He is well cared-for and won’t miss what you give away.” The hint of a smile crossed her face. “The revolutionaries value your capabilities as a commander, <em>mon cher</em>. If you were to agree, we could aid the people like we’ve always wanted. No longer must we labour our way through his majesty’s parties at Versailles, no longer must we feign laughter and watch our people die on the streets.”</p><p>The general sighed heavily.</p><p>“Perhaps. But is a life of poverty truly what you want? I was amongst them once. If I still were amongst them, I probably would be standing next to you right now.” He stood up. “Yet now that I am amongst nobility... There is a part of me that simply does not desire to return to that life. Currently, that side of me prevails. It has the support of my heart. My heart, which desires nothing but the best for my son. Something I fear I shall not be able to provide if I give up my status.”</p><p>The duchess rolled her eyes and pointed her gun at her husband again.</p><p>“Clement will be happier if you are <em>alive</em>, well, and poor than if you <em>cling</em> to your wealth in the hopes of <em>that </em>being what is best for him.”</p><p>The general’s brow furrowed and he slowly, his hands down onto the desk, leaning forwards in a way that made felt very purposeful. The hand holding the gun shook a little, but the duchess did not flinch away or shrink down.</p><p>Immanuel had rarely seen the man so close to anger in the fifteen years he had served the Compatisse family.</p><p>“Do you think I do not know that, Satine? Why do you think I simply let you waltz in here?! Were I any other noble, you and your friends would already lie massacred outside our gates.”</p><p>The man’s voice shook. Immanuel realised only now that, only perhaps, he should not be eavesdropping like this.</p><p>Duchess Satine’s face softened. She lowered the gun – but did not release it from her hold – and reached out to stroke her husband’s cheek. Her touch was light as a feather and the coldness had left her gaze, although the warmth of the fire still remained.</p><p>“Olivier,” the duchess started, “just like yours, my heart only wishes for the best for our son. But I simply cannot look away when our people are suffering. It is a ruler’s role to govern and protect, and I see no other choice but to join them if I want to serve my people well.”</p><p>She set down the gun and grasped her husband’s hands.</p><p>“Please, <em>mon cher</em>. Let us be kind. Help your people like you have always wanted. Don’t cling to your wealth like it’s what made me fall in love with you.”</p><p>General Compatisse smiled sadly, pulling himself free from her grip to take her hands in his own and press a soft kiss on her knuckles. The duchess gazed at him lovingly. There was no other way for Olivier to describe it.</p><p>“I wish I could, <em>mon ami</em>. But what of the staff? If I give up our wealth, what shall they eat?”</p><p>“I believe we will find a way to feed them. Simply grant them free reign of our kitchens. I know you cannot stomach those grand, opulent meals anyways,” Duchess Satine suggested with a teasing sparkle in her blue eyes.</p><p>Her husband chuckled.</p><p>“As always, you know me better than I know myself, <em>mon cher</em>. It shall be done, <em>Madame</em>.”</p><hr/><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Seen above: The lovely art piece that goes along with this story, by The Mandalorian Hippie</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>French translations: <br/>mon amour = my love<br/>mon cher = my dear</p></blockquote></div></div>
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